Fever
by AnimeRANDOMNESS
Summary: Yuffie manages to save Vincent in the nick of time, and does her best to tend his wounds. When a fever robs him of his normal defenses, she begins to realize how deeply he's been hurt. Yuffie's never mended a broken heart before...but she's going to try.
1. Rescue

**Hey everyone! This, too, will be a fairly short little fanfic. I'm planning on making it about 3 chapters long, so by 'short' i mean 'tiny'. This is set during Dirge of Cerberus; it's been a little while since I've played the actual game, so let me know if I accidentally mess anything up. Basically, I wrote this because I wasn't satisfied with Vincent getting a grapefruit-sized protomateria ripped out of his chest, and him waking up all magically healed the next day. I mean, I know he has healing powers, but _c'mon!_ His healing abilities weren't even that strong in the_ first _game! Well, anyways. Suggestions are happily accepted, and please review!**

* * *

Niebelhiem was a far different place than it had been three years ago. With the 'actors' Shinra had hired long gone, the town had been repopulated by survivors of Midgar. At least, it had been. Now it appeared to be abandoned yet again, a ghost town, without a single soul. But closer inspection revealed that the residents had not left willingly. Bullet holes riddled the sides of the houses. Doors had been smashed in. Glass from shattered windows and broken bricks littered the ground. And more than one wall was stained with blood spatters.

Yuffie Kisaragi swore under her breath; she had thought things in Wutai were bad. But Wutaians were warriors, born and raised. Every man, woman, and child could hold a kunai. That's why, when Deepground emerged from the darkness and began the invasion, three-fourths of the populace got out safely.

Niebelhiem wasn't so lucky. The ninja wasn't even sure if there were _any_ survivors.

She picked her way around the still smoldering remains of a house, scanning everything with her eyes. This place wasn't like any of the other cities that were hit; there were no civilians, no Deepground soldiers, not even any bodies. Yuffie realized that this was probably what Deepground had envisioned for all the cities: a complete eradication. She shuddered; she couldn't stomach to think what they were going to do with the corpses of the 'impure'.

After thoroughly searching the town – twice – she pulled out her phone and punched in a number. It rang only once before a male voice answered.

_"Well? What did you find, Yuffie?"_

"Nothing," the ninja replied, pulling her white cloak tighter against the chilled wind, "There's nothing left, Reeve. No one's here, not even any bodies. Deepground took everything worth taking. There's just…nothing."

She heard her boss suck in a deep breath, and exhale deeply. When he spoke again, she could hear the sorrow and guilt in his voice.

_"…I was afraid of that. Then the men we deployed there were…"_

His voice trailed off, and Yuffie understood. Losing his own men was hard on Reeve, especially knowing that their deaths had done nothing to prevent the rest of the town from falling victim.

Yuffie spoke up softly.

"Hey…Reeve, it isn't your fault. You did all you could. If the WRO wasn't around, _all _the cities would be like this."

There was a pause, before he replied.

_"…thank you. And you're right. If we want to prevent this from happening again, I have to focus on the task at hand."_

The ninja smiled, and tried her best to sound cheerful.

"That's the spirit, chief! Now, got any more missions planned for me? Particularly ones involving my shuriken meeting Deepground ass?"

_"Perhaps,"_ the commissioner said, and the girl was pleased to note he sounded a little less grim, _"For now, I want you to rendezvous with Vincent."_

In spite of herself, Yuffie's heart skipped a beat.

"Vincent? Vincent's _here?"_

_"Yes. At Shinra Manor. Meet with him, and make your way back to headquarters. We'll convene there."_

"Got it, chief. See you soon."

_"Oh, and Yuffie…" _Reeve hesitated before continuing, _"Be – considerate – to him. That place is hard on him, even if he won't admit it."_

Before she could reply, the call ended. Yuffie snapped her phone shut and stuffed it into her pocket. In spite of Reeve's beat-around-the-bush way of putting it, she knew what he meant. He wanted her to tone down her spunky ninja charm and be gentle with him, though Reeve would never even _suggest_ the notion that Vincent Valentine would need to be treated 'gently'.

The ninja sighed. Being gentle was not something she excelled at. It wasn't a skill highly valued by most ninja, but, after sticking her foot in her mouth and hurting her friends on numerous occasions, it was a skill she wished she had developed more.

Hauling her large shuriken onto her back, the ninja set out back through the town, and towards the ruined manor just beyond.

In spite of all the recent tragedy, and all the chaos going on, Yuffie felt a twinge of happy excitement at the thought of seeing Vincent again. Although she relished teasing him, she was actually quite fond of him. Truth be told, she had a bit of a crush on the gunslinger. Who wouldn't? He was drop dead gorgeous, with that beautiful pale face and long black hair, and those crimson eyes that seemed to stare right into the depths of her soul…

Okay, so she had a _big_ crush on the gunslinger.

Back in the day, it had been an endless source of amusement for Tifa and Aerith. Once, Aerith had asked why she liked him so much. Without thinking, she had replied, _"He's freaking insane with a gun, and he's damn sexy!"_

It had taken ten minutes for the two other women to stop rolling around on the floor laughing, and, much to Yuffie's embarrassment, took to giggling it into her ear whenever they saw her gazing at the gunman.

But that wasn't really the truth. Granted, those were two good reasons, but it was more than that. Something a lot harder to explain.

Yuffie shook her head furiously. She was a little frustrated that she, the Greatest Ninja of All Time and Princess of Wutai, could be reduced to acting like a silly schoolgirl because of one _man._ It wasn't like she was sixteen anymore; she was nineteen now, almost twenty. A grown woman, by anyone's standards. It stood to reason she should have outgrown her crush by now.

Unfortunately, it didn't work that way.

Her mind was thankfully jerked back to reality by a sudden gust of wind ripping at her cloak. She pulled it tighter around her, and glared up at the sky. It was dark and overcast; a storm was brewing. Yuffie huffed.

Well, wasn't that just _nifty?_ Looks like she'd probably be spending the night holed up in Shinra Manor. _Oh the fun._

Crush or no crush, if the ex-Turk tried to sleep in his coffin again, she swore to herself she'd beat the depressing snot right out of him.

The decrepit old mansion loomed in front of her now, and Yuffie grudgingly admitted it was a welcome sight. Anything was better than the icy wind biting at her skin. But as she neared the building, something caught her ear.

Her eyes widened. Gunfire?

Without warning, a window exploded into bits, and an electric shriek filled the air. Something heavy and metallic fell to the ground. Then…silence.

Yuffie bent low and ran at full speed. Shinra Manor had a reputation for harboring unpleasant things, and that _definitely_ sounded like one of them. She hopped up a collapsed portion of the wall and looked inside the newly-shattered window.

Vincent Valentine stood over what looked to be a spider-like machine. It was covered in bullet holes and claw marks, and sparked harmlessly in a heap near the middle of the room. Vincent kept Cerberus trained on it just in case.

Suddenly, Yuffie saw a flash of movement from the corner of her eye, and watched as a woman clothed in red sprinted up behind him. Vincent whirled around, but it was too late; the woman thrust one of her clawed hands deep into his chest. The ninja watched in unbelieving horror as she jerked it out, spattering blood and chunks of flesh as she did so.

Vincent choked, eyes wide with pain and shock. Cerberus clattered to the ground as he fell to his knees, blood gushing from the gaping wound, staining his clothes. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, his body spasming.

Almost immediately, he began to glow dark crimson, and his body quickly changed. Soon, it was Chaos lying there on the ground. But even his transformation could do nothing; Chaos sputtered a few times, his demon wings jerking in pain, and within seconds, he had reverted back.

The woman was saying something now, but Yuffie wasn't listening. Her attention was solely focused on her friend, lying defenselessly in a rapidly growing pool of blood.

Unconsciously, the ninja had already pulled out a Materia. Gripping her shuriken in her hand, her body tensed, automatically preparing for what she had to do.

When the assassin woman bent down over Vincent, bloodlust in her eyes, her claws poised to rip out his heart, Yuffie sprang from the window, running faster than she ever had in her life, and hurled her shuriken straight towards the woman's throat.

The red-haired woman saw it just in time and jumped backwards, looking at the ninja in surprise and rage. Yuffie turned sharply and leapt up, catching her weapon in midair. She sprinted towards the fallen gunslinger, and threw her shuriken again, not bothering for careful aim; it was just meant to distract her. It served its purpose, and Yuffie dived to the ground. Pulling her wounded comrade into her arms, she activated the Exit Materia.

A brilliant light surrounded both of them. When the assassin saw the room next, she'd find it empty. Just as the ruined entrance hall of Shinra Manor vanished completely, she heard a furious voice scream,

"_WUTAI FLEA!"_

When the light cleared, Yuffie was already running. Vincent dangled limply from her back. Pain and blood loss had robbed the gunman of conciousness. She clutched his arms to keep him from falling off. Terror was thundering through Yuffie's veins, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"Don't you die on me, Vincent Valentine!" Yuffie whispered to him, pulling him up farther, urging her aching muscles to go faster, _"Please don't die!"_


	2. Regrets

The rain had already begun to pour from the heavens by the time they reached Niebelhiem. Panting, Yuffie shifted Vincent's weight, and carried him into the nearest house.

It was small and dark, with only a few sparsely furnished rooms. Some of the furniture had been knocked over, but that was the extent of the damage. The girl half-carried, half-dragged her friend into a bedroom, and laid him out on the mattress.

Vincent was motionless and silent, his eyes closed. The gaping wound in his chest was still oozing. It was so deep, she could see two ribs. Yuffie nearly threw up, but drove her nausea down by sheer will. Her mind screamed at her to do something, anything, but she felt paralyzed. She wasn't a doctor; she wasn't even very good at first-aid. If only she had a healing Materia...Cloud had let them all choose Materia to keep. _Why oh why hadn't she taken a healing Materia?_

Forcing herself to calm down, she squeezed her eyes shut. _What would Aerith do?_ She thought desperately, _What would __**she **__do?_

She went with the first thought that came into her mind; cover the wound.

Her eyes snapped open. Bandages. She needed bandages.

The ninja quickly located the bathroom, and raided the medicine cabinet. She returned to his side moments later, her arms filled with supplies, and dumped them onto the nearby desk. Yuffie grabbed a thick roll of gauze and approached the gunman.

As she began to unbutton his shredded shirt, Vincent gurgled weakly. Instinctively, she rolled him onto his side. He choked up a mouthful of blood, and coughed deeply. Yuffie dabbed the crimson from his pale lips, biting her own. She kept him in that position; though it made her job harder, at least she wouldn't risk him drowning in his own blood.

She finished undoing his shirt, and peeled the soaked fabric away to reveal his chest. The blood-red gore looked wrong, almost _fake_, against his alabaster skin. Yuffie began to bandage it, but no sooner did the gauze touch Vincent's wound, then his back arched, and he let out a pained gasp. He shifted backward, trying to pull away.

"Vincent!" she said, taking his human hand, "I know it hurts, but I'm trying to help you. Just squeeze my hand, okay? Squeeze as hard as you can!"

Yuffie didn't think he heard her, but as she wrapped the gaping hole, the ninja was sure she felt a slight pressure on her hand.

She bound it thickly, dimly hoping that wrapping it more might somehow lessen the pain. When she had finished, the ninja saw that Vincent had begun to shiver violently. Both of them were both soaked to the bone, but _he_ had lost far too much blood to keep himself warm.

Yuffie pulled off his sodden cape. It slid into a disheveled heap on the floor. The remains of his shirt came off next, followed by his one glove. She managed to tug off his boots without impaling herself. All were tossed unceremoniously on top of his cape. Yuffie glanced at his pants and hesitated. They too were sopping wet, but…well, even if she hadn't had a crush on him, she'd still be uncomfortable.

Another convulsive shudder racked Vincent's body. His teeth chattered as he struggled to breathe.

She bit her lip. She hadn't just saved him from that hell-witch to have him die of hypothermia.

Swallowing her embarrassment, Yuffie unfastened his pants and stripped them off of him. They were added to the pile, and the girl sat back, wiping a few drops of rain water from her chin. Vincent lay on the bed, clothed only in boxers and bloody bandages, his skin white as death, his chilled body trembling. He moaned, and was seized by another fit of coughing that stained the sheets scarlet.

Yuffie leaned over, brushing a tangle of dripping black locks out of his face. His skin was like ice. Alarmed, she left the room and returned moments later with towels, and set to work drying him off as best she could. Once he was relatively dry, Yuffie wiggled the bloody sheets and blanket out from under him, and fetched replacements off the other bed. She bundled the comforter around him, and sat back down to dry off his hair. When she finished, she slipped a dry pillow beneath his head, and wedged the old one behind his back to keep him from rolling over.

Noticing that the gunman hadn't stopped shivering, she laid her hand to his cheek. It was still cold. The ninja went to check the thermostat, and found it was no use; the heating system for the house had been wired to run on Mako energy, and hadn't been switched over. Apparently, the occupants had been too lazy, or so cheap they were content to freeze to death.

Yuffie swore, and went back to the room, searching for something that could warm him.

There was a fireplace in the corner, one that had obviously not been used in years. She hunted through the house for firewood, but found none. There was a woodpile outside the house, one that could be clearly seen from the window – but the damn rain had rendered that absolutely freaking _worthless._

Finally, she seized one of the wooden kitchen chairs and hacked it apart with her shuriken. She dumped the remains into the fireplace, shredded some paper beneath it, and tried to light a match. But it wouldn't light. The next one didn't either, and neither did the third.

"_C'mon, dammit!"_ Yuffie screamed in angry frustration, slamming a fist into the ground. Tears stung the corners of her eyes; she wiped them away before they could fall. Never in her life had she felt so pitiful, so _useless._ One of her friends – someone very precious to her – was badly hurt, maybe _dying_, and she couldn't even light a fire to keep him warm.

Her vision clouded with tears again, and she rubbed them away in disgust. Leviathan, was she pathetic. Going to pieces like this, and now, of all times. She had to pull herself together.

Yuffie slapped herself hard on the cheeks, and renewed her attempts to light the stupid, god-forsaken matches. It took eleven consecutive tries, but she did it. The match lit, and within a few minutes, the wood had caught fire.

The ninja allowed herself a few moments to bask in its warm glow, and to banish the chill from her still-damp skin. Then she pulled herself to her feet, and went to check on Vincent.

He had curled up a little, partly burying his face into the blankets. Hesitantly, Yuffie checked his temperature. His skin had warmed.

Relieved, the girl gave him a small smile, one that quickly disappeared as the gunman let out another hacking cough. Crimson liquid dripped down the corner of his mouth. Yuffie used a corner of the sheet to dab it away as he gasped to regain his breath. The frequency of his choking, and the amount of blood he coughed up was lessening, at least. But she would feel a lot better when it stopped completely.

The girl peeled the blanket back to reveal his torso. The front of the bandages was already completely covered in blood. Yuffie used a kunai knife to carefully cut off the soiled guaze.

The wound seemed more or less the same; only the inflammation had gone down. But what disturbed the ninja were the rings of bruises now forming over his chest and back.

Her shoulders slumped. She had wrapped the bandages too tight.

Even when she was _trying_ to be gentle, she was too rough. And now he was hurt _worse._

"I'm sorry, Vincent," Yuffie whispered, "I'm so sorry…I'll…I'll do better this time, okay?"

She re-bandaged the gaping hole, checking to make sure it was loose enough, all the while wishing she was different. Maybe if she was more like Aerith, who had always been so effortlessly kind and compassionate, or even Tifa, who handled Marlene and Denzel with such grace, it wouldn't have happened. Actually, it would've been better if Aerith or Tifa were there instead. They were good at healing; they were good at being gentle. Yuffie wasn't.

Yuffie was good at sneaking into places, stealing stuff, and killing things. And that was about it.

But Tifa was with Cloud, helping Reeve, and Aerith…Aerith was gone.

After she had pulled the blankets back over Vincent, she went into the kitchen and gazed warily out the windows. The rain was still pouring down. A streak of lightening split through the clouds. But there was no sign of the red-clad woman, or any Deepground soldiers. Even the monsters had taken refuge from the storm.

Yuffie pulled out her phone and called Reeve. This time, it rung several times, before going to voicemail. She sighed wearily, running her fingers through her short hair.

"Reeve, it's me, Yuffie. Vincent's hurt…he's hurt really bad. I'll give you the details later, but we're in Niebelhiem right now. Call me back as soon as you can, okay?"

She hung up and put her cell back into her pocket, and slipped noiselessly back into the room.

After a few hours, Vincent stopped coughing up blood. Yuffie sat beside him, watching his chest rise and fall, until his breathing became less labored, and she could barely keep her eyes open. Though there was another bedroom, she was unwilling to leave him, and instead fell asleep at his side, using her arms as a pillow.


	3. Nightmares

**Remember how I said this was going to be about 3 chapters? Well, I lied. It's going to be four, possibly five chapters long. Enjoy, and please review!**

**

* * *

**

Yuffie woke up to her cell phone ringing. She snapped it open, quickly moving to the hallway to keep from waking Vincent.

"Hello?" she answered.

"_Yuffie!"_ came Reeve's worried reply, _"I just got your message! Vincent was injured? What on earth happened?"_

"I'm not really sure," Yuffie said, rubbing the back of her neck, "When I got there, he had just taken down a spider-thing, and all of a sudden this – this _woman_ – snuck up on him and ripped this huge Materia out of his chest."

Reeve was quiet for a moment, processing the information. Slowly, he asked,

"_This woman…can you describe her?"_

"Yeah. About six-foot, red hair, dressed like a hooker. She had two silver claws."

"_Rosso…"_ he breathed, _"Rosso the Crimson. One of the Tsviets. Then what she must have pulled out of him was…!"_

The WRO commissioner paused, then anxiously said,

"_What about Vincent? Is he still…?"_

"He's still alive, Reeve," the ninja answered quickly, before he could get the horrible question out of his mouth.

There was a relieved sigh.

"_He is…thank god…how is he doing?"_

"Not that great," Yuffie answered truthfully, glancing towards the bedroom door, "I got him bandaged up, and I'm doing the best that I can, but…the best I can do is not very good."

"_I'm sure you're doing fine, Yuffie,"_ Reeve assured, _"I'll send a helicopter to pick you two up as soon as one gets back from Rockettown."_

The ninja swallowed, and tried to fake a bit of her normal exuberance.

"Yeah, well, tell them to hurry it up, or I'll kick their butts personally."

"_I will. It's only fair to give them a warning." _His tone softened._ "And, Yuffie?"_

"Yeah, chief?"

"_There isn't anyone in the world I'd rather trust Vincent with right now. Take care of him for all of us, will you?"_

A small smile spread over her lips.

"I'll do that," she said quietly, and hung up the phone.

Yuffie returned to the room, and, seeing the fire was dying, threw on the few last pieces of chair. Glancing up at the clock, she realized she had only slept about three hours.

The ninja sighed, and stretched her aching limbs. Three hours of sleep on a stool was far from refreshing. Oh, well. It would have to do for now.

She went out to the kitchen and butchered two more chairs. She almost chopped up the last one as well, but paused. It looked a little more comfortable than her small stool. So Yuffie dumped the makeshift firewood onto it, and dragged the whole thing back into the room. After arranging the wood into a pile by the fireplace, she happily kicked the source of her discomfort into a corner, and scooted the chair into its place. Then she went back over to Vincent.

The gunslinger lay on his back, his long raven hair spilling out around him, framing his ivory skin. His fists were clenched around the blanket. A sheen of sweat covered his body. Vincent groaned, breathing heavily.

Alarmed, Yuffie hastily pulled back the covers to look at his wound. The bandages were clean; he wasn't bleeding. She looked at his face; it was furrowed in pain, and his normally pale skin was flushed. The ninja pushed back his bandana to feel his forehead. Almost immediately, she jerked it back.

His skin had gone from freezing cold to burning hot.

"…_w-water…"_ Vincent choked hoarsely, his eyes still closed.

Yuffie hurried into the kitchen, and returned seconds later with a full glass. She placed it against his parched lips. He swallowed thirstily, a few drops escaping down the corners of his mouth. Once the glass was drained, the ninja got a wet washcloth from the bathroom and mopped it over his face. He murmured, unconsciously shifting to press against the soothing moisture.

Having cooled his brow, she ran it gently over his neck and upper chest, around the bandages. Yuffie then flipped the washcloth over, and, removing his bandana, laid it across his forehead.

That rain. That damn rain, and that horrible wind. Even though she had dried him off, and got him warm again, the damage had already been done. And now, on top of everything else, he was sick. She'd never even _felt_ a fever that bad before.

But Vincent was strong. He'd be able to survive it…

Right?

Half of Yuffie wanted to call Reeve again, to tell him how sick Vincent had gotten, to urge him to _hurry_, but there wasn't any point. He already knew Vincent was hurt, and he'd be doing everything he could already. Telling him wouldn't bring the chopper any sooner; it would only make Reeve worry more, and the commissioner of the WRO was already worried enough.

That didn't stop a part of her from wanting to, though.

Instead, Yuffie sat tiredly back on her chair, gazing sadly at her friend. She had never seen him look so helpless. Even when he had been injured before, he had acted like it was nothing, like he could barely feel the pain. And he was always the last one to ask for healing; most of the time he just kept shooting until the battle was over, and went off by himself to treat his own wounds.

But he looked so fragile now, so _human._ Seeing him like that made Yuffie uncomfortable; it was like she was intruding on his privacy, and seeing something she shouldn't.

Suddenly, a tremor shot up Vincent's spine. He rolled onto his side, curling up in a slight fetal position, his knees nearly to his chest. He exhaled a rattling breath, and with it, a word.

"…n-no…"

Yuffie leaned over, wondering if he had regained consciousness.

"Vincent?" she asked softly.

"…no…no…d-don't…"

His closed eyelids were fluttering, his muscles tensing. The gunslinger appeared to be dreaming. And it sure didn't sound like a good dream.

He froze for a moment.

"_H-Hojo…"_

His voice was filled with hatred and fear.

Hojo. Yuffie remembered that name. He had been the sick, crazy jerk who led Shinra's research. He'd been the one that screwed up Cloud's head so badly. He'd been the one who…

None of them had been sure of what he had actually _done_ to Vincent; the gunman had never shared the details. But his deathly pale skin, the metal claw where his arm should be, and his ability to transform into hellish creatures told them all they needed to know.

Vincent shook his head weakly, his brow furrowing. Sweat had begun to re-form on his face. His labored breathing became faster and faster.

"No…stop…I'm…I'm not…no…n-no…I'm…not…your…test…subject…" He gasped. His back arched, his body going rigid, and he fell onto his back. He began to twist beneath the covers.

That worried Yuffie. If he moved around too much, he could reopen his wound again. And at that point, he didn't have any extra blood to lose.

"Vincent!" she said fearfully, "It's me, Yuffie! You need to hold still, okay? You're going to hurt yourself! Vincent? Vincent, can you hear me?"

Her words didn't reach him. The gunslinger was too deeply lost in his feverish nightmares.

* * *

_When Vincent opened his eyes, he was in a glass cylinder, suspended in a liquid. Bubbles danced along his body. The tattered remains of his Turk uniform clung to him; it almost looked like his clothes had succumbed to water rot. With a start, Vincent realized he needed to get out before he drowned. He tried to swim upward, but found he couldn't move at all. The liquid was too thick, his limbs too heavy. Every muscle in his body ached. And his chest…his chest hurt the worst. It was a stabbing, burning pain, like he'd been shot…_

_Images came flying back. Hojo. The gun._

_Apprehension growing in his heart, he tried to swim again. Air. He needed air. He was going to drown. __**He had to get out! **_

_But still he couldn't move; he couldn't even turn his head. Why wouldn't his muscles work? Had he been drugged? Vincent held his breath as long as he could, continuing to fight against his motionless body. Eventually though, he lost, and he gasped in the bubbling liquid. To his shock, it soothed his burning lungs, and a wave of drowsiness washed over him. His eyes closed, and slumber took him._

_The second time he awakened, he found himself out of the cylinder, lying on a table. Vincent blinked against the harsh light that shined in his face. The metal table was cold against his bare skin, and he realized his suit must have been removed. He tried to sit up, but found he couldn't. It wasn't his muscles this time; something else was preventing him. Vincent raised his head._

_His body had been stripped naked, and tethered down to a surgical table. His skin was startlingly white, and a deep, discolored scar stood out against his chest. His left arm was covered in marker outlines used for surgery. Panic seized him._

"_Well, well, it looks as if you've finally woken up," a voice mused._

_Vincent turned his head._

_An older, gangling man with slicked back hair and large glassed stood over him, grinning down at him wickedly. Hojo._

_He tried to say the name, but it came out muffled and garbled. A rough leather strap had been inserted into his mouth, and fastened tightly at the back of his neck. He struggled against the restraints, emitting stifled yells._

"_There's no need for Lucrecia to know I'm tinkering with her experiment," the scientist sneered, picking up a bottle of sickly yellow liquid, "Besides, we can't have you swallowing your tongue, now can we?"_

_Hojo filled a syringe with the liquid, tapping the needle to ensure no bubbles were trapped inside, and approached him._

"_You see, boy, my assistant had a very difficult delivery. She'll be in bed for at least two weeks. Which means I get you all to myself, to use as my personal test subject."_

_Vincent struggled harder, twisting to get out of his reach. Hojo watched his vain attempts in sadistic amusement, and chuckled, before plunging the needle deep into his thigh. He let out a gagged cry. The icy liquid spread through his veins quickly; in seconds, his body went limp._

_Vincent could only stare up at him in wide-eyed terror as the scientist pulled a scalpel from the table._

"_Now," Hojo murmured to himself, eyeing the marked outlines on his victim's arm, "Where to begin…?"_

* * *

Suddenly, Vincent's convulsions became full-blown thrashing. He kicked the blankets off his body, his claw tearing into the mattress. He screamed.

Yuffie shot out of her seat. He was going to rip his wound back open. She had to _do_ something. She had to stop him!

She grabbed onto his arms, trying to hold him down.

"Vincent!" she cried, "Stop! You have to stop! _Please! _You're going to tear yourself apart!"

"N-NO!" the gunman choked, shaking his head, "NO! DON'T! _NO!"_

He jerked himself out of her grip, and continued to flail wildly. His crimson eyes were open now, but unseeing; they stared, unfocused, at some invisible fiend. The ninja saw in horror that a small scarlet stain had appeared on his bandages.

Desperate to stop him, Yuffie heaved herself on top of her friend. She seized his wrists and pressed her knees firmly against his sides, pinning him to the bed. Vincent screamed again, and writhed against her, trying to pull away. But his wound and illness had weakened him considerably, and all he could do was struggle helplessly in her grip.

Vincent continued to fight against her for several minutes, until finally, his thrashing ceased, and he simply laid there panting. However, it was far from a victory; the realization he was restrained distressed him further. His wide crimson eyes stared through her, panicked and swimming with terror. Yuffie could feel his pulse beating uncontrollably, his chest rapidly rising and falling. His body grew slick with sweat. He whimpered miserably.

Yuffie's heart fell; she couldn't stand to see him so terrified, so alone in his nightmares. There had to be a way to get him out of his feverish delusion. She let go of his arms, and put them on his shoulders.

"It's okay, Vincent," the ninja assured softly, "It isn't real. Hojo's dead. We killed him, remember? He can't hurt you anymore."

He exhaled sharply, and another shudder ran down his body. Yuffie leaned over, looking deep into his crimson eyes.

"But I'm here, Vincent. I'm right here with you. You aren't alone. See?"

She reached out, brushing a swath of black hair out of his face, and put her hand against his cheek. His eyes drifted towards her, focusing slightly. Slowly, his body seemed to relax. Vincent hesitantly raised his claw to touch her hand. Catching sight of the brass-colored metal, he froze. His claw began to tremble.

"_M-My arm…"_ he whispered. A look of pain overwhelmed his face; he squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head. "…m-monster…he…h-he made me…a…_monster…!"_

"_Don't say that!"_ Yuffie yelled suddenly. She almost jerked his head back towards her, but remembered just in time, and took his chin as lightly as she could, and slowly pulled him back to face her. However, she could not keep her voice calm.

"You aren't a monster! Hojo's the monster, not_ you!"_

Vincent gazed up at her. Instead of the cold mask he usually wore, emotions ran freely over his pale face. He looked startled, confused, upset.

Yuffie's face softened. She gently took his claw in her hand, intertwining her fingers between his metal ones.

"You aren't a monster, Vincent," she repeated tenderly, "You're a man. More than that, you're my _friend_. And I'm going to stay right here with you, no matter what."

He drank in her words. Closing his eyes, he sighed deeply, as if exhaling all the pain and fear. His claw tightened around her fingers. Soon Vincent fell asleep, holding her hand.


	4. Lullabies

**Yep, it's going to have to be five chapters long. Sorry for the delay on this one. It was really hard to write, at least without it sounding stupendously corny. Enjoy, and please review!**

* * *

The downpour had not let up. If anything, the storm seemed almost worse. Wind tore at the trees and shattered buildings outside, rain hammering ruthlessly on the roof. Lightning and thunder continued their duet across the sky. Yuffie realized bleakly that Reeve's helicopter wouldn't be able to even get _near_ Niebelhiem in this weather. But there was little she could do.

Usually, when the ninja grew anxious, she'd talk. It was an annoying habit, she knew, but she couldn't help it. She'd randomly spout whatever nonsense came into her head, and keep on chatting until either the situation improved, or, in the case of what usually happened, someone kindly told her to put a sock in it.

But there was no one to talk to. Vincent was finally sleeping somewhat peacefully, and she wouldn't dare risk waking him up. So Yuffie began looking for something, _anything_, to do.

She hung up Vincent's clothes and cape by the fire to dry, and rummaged around the house until she found a loose T-shirt and a pair of cotton pants she changed into. They were far too big for her, and she had to knot a loop of extra fabric from the shirt, and roll up the pants twice just so they wouldn't fall off. But anything was better than cold, wet clothes. Her usual outfit went up by Vincent's.

Next she stoked the fire, and, noticing they were yet again running low on firewood, she chopped up the stool. She also dismantled a bedside table from the other bedroom, and threw it on the pile. Deciding it was still not enough, she went out to the kitchen and took out her pent up frustration by hacking apart the wooden cabinets, the kitchen table, and a floorboard she had tripped on, and could've sworn was mocking her. When the woodpile reached roughly the same size as the one outside, she was satisfied they had enough.

It was then that Yuffie dared to check on Vincent. His fever didn't seem to have lessened, much to the ninja's disappointment. She dabbed the sweat from his pale body, and placed a fresh, wet washcloth over his hot brow. Though she worked as gently as she could, she still seemed to rouse the gunman, who flexed his metal claws, unconsciously searching for what it had been holding. Not finding it, his eyes opened slightly. He whispered something, but his voice was too quiet and dry for her to make out what he said.

"Do you want some more water?" Yuffie asked, offering him the full glass.

Vincent nodded weakly, and swallowed a few small gulps. His thirst satiated, he again tried to speak, and this time she heard him.

"…L-Lucrecia…?"

"No," she said softly, "No, it's me, Yuffie. Remember?"

"…Yuffie…"

His eyes drifted shut. But his metal claw continued to move, feeling around for something.

Realizing what that something was, the ninja slipped her hand into his claw, which immediately closed around it. The gunman sighed and relaxed, his head falling to the side, splaying his dark hair once more over his face. She nearly smiled, and was leaning over to brush the locks away when her phone rang.

Yuffie didn't leave the room this time; she didn't have the heart to pull her hand away. Instead, she simply answered it with her other hand. Being an ambidextrous ninja had its advantages.

"_Yuffie, it's Reeve,"_ the voice said quickly. He sounded worried, upset.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"_The helicopter I sent to Rockettown – the one that was going to pick you and Vincent up – just went down, apparently with five crew members still on board." _

Yuffie hissed angrily through her teeth.

"Deepground bastards…!"

"_How is Vincent?"_ he asked. Concern was evident in his voice.

Yuffie glanced at her friend, and gently squeezed his metal claw. A few beads of sweat ran down his flushed face.

"…not good," she admitted wearily, "He's got a fever, a bad one, and I can't seem to get it down. I don't even think he knows what's going on."

It was Reeve's turn to swear, and swear he did. The ninja couldn't hold back a small chuckle.

"Wow, chief, who taught you _that_ cuss word?"

"_Cid Highwind,"_ he replied bleakly, his voice growing determined, _"All right, that settles it. I'm pulling the Shadowfox from its assignment and sending it to pick you up."_

Yuffie raised an eyebrow.

"Are…are you sure, Reeve? Doesn't Cloud need it?"

"_Cloud has Fenrir, and I know for a fact he'd rather be sure that you two are safe."_

"But the mission…!"

"_The mission can wait, Yuffie,"_ Reeve said firmly, _"I've lost too many men, and I'm not about to lose a friend as well."_

The ninja felt a relieved smile spread over her face.

"…thanks, Reeve. You're a good friend."

"_Not as good of one as you are. I can't believe you aren't threatening me with dismemberment at this point. I practically blackmailed you into joining the WRO, and I guilt-tripped Vincent into helping me."_

"Yeah, well, you _did_ work at Shinra, buddy."

Reeve tried to find a good defense for this, but could apparently find none.

"…_true,"_ he finally sighed, and Yuffie could almost picture him rubbing his temples, before his voice became serious once more, _"See if you can find a bottle of Remedy, or even some Antidote. Both can help break fevers. And keep him well hydrated."_

"Ok. Got it."

"_Thank you, Yuffie. The Shadowfox will be there as soon as it can. Tuesti out."_

The call ended, and Yuffie shut her phone, her heart lighter. Knowing that help was on the way somehow made the situation seem a lot better. It wouldn't improve any until the Shadowfox actually arrived, but it _felt_ better nonetheless.

With her hand still held in Vincent's grasp, the ninja took the opportunity to slowly pull down the blanket, and carefully sliced off the bloody bandages to check his wound.

It wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it'd be, thank Leviathan. She had been sure his thrashing would've torn it all the way back open, but it looked as though it had only opened a small part. In fact, to Yuffie's shock, the wound looked as though it had already begun to heal around the edges.

_No wonder he never makes a big deal out of getting hurt,_ she thought to herself as she began to rewrap the bandages. Her finger accidentally brushed over the surface of the wound. Vincent groaned, wincing.

"S-Sorry!" Yuffie stammered, and guiltily continued to bandage, "I guess it doesn't hurt any less though, does it?"

Once she had finished, the ninja pulled the blanket back over him, and noticed uneasily that perspiration coated his face. The gunman's brow furrowed. His breathing grew heavier, and he began to toss and turn.

Yuffie tensed. It was the same symptoms he had exhibited earlier, right before he started flailing. If he was having another nightmare, she was going to have to hold him down again. She really, really hoped it wouldn't come to that; she didn't know if she could stomach putting Vincent in such anxiety a second time.

She squeezed his claw, rubbing her thumb over the smooth metal. The ninja knew that he didn't have any sense of touch in that hand. He probably couldn't even feel the pressure. But that didn't stop her from trying.

Her efforts weren't in vain; his shifting slowed, and his body relaxed. Whether it was due to her, or just that the dream had passed, she didn't know, and frankly, didn't care.

Abruptly, Yuffie remembered what Reeve had said about Remedies and Antidotes, and decided to go search the rest of the house for one. Breaking his fever nearly guaranteed a faster recovery, and she desperately wanted to see him lucid. Seeing him so badly hurt was bad enough.

The memory of the red-clad Tsviet plunging her claws deep into Vincent flashed across her mind, and she shuddered, clenching her fists.

"Once this is over with, that bitch's ass is _mine,"_ she muttered.

The ninja stood and turned to go find the medicine. Feeling her pull away, Vincent's claw tightened. He turned onto his side, clutching her hand to his chest, as if refusing to relinquish it. She soon found herself staring into feverish crimson eyes.

"…no…" he whispered, "…don't go…stay…_please_…"

Yuffie slid back down onto her chair, partly in astonishment. She couldn't remember him ever asking _anyone_ for their company, let alone _pleading_ for it. She knew he was sick, and probably only semi-conscious; part of her believed it was the fever talking. But the tone of his voice – the quiet desperation carried on it – made her wonder if he had thought the words many times before, but could never say them. Vincent had been alone such a long time…the ninja had always been led to believe he preferred it that way. Maybe she was wrong.

"Okay," she replied softly, "I'll stay with you."

Hearing her assurance, the gunman's grip on her lessened. Yuffie leaned forward and smoothed his hair back out of his eyes. At her touch, he exhaled slowly, something like a half-sigh. The ninja continued to stroke, running her fingers lightly through his hair, hoping she could lull him back to sleep. At that point, the best thing for him was rest.

A tune suddenly drifted across her memory, an old Wutaian lullaby her mother had used to sing to her as a child. Yuffie frowned; unlike her mother, she did not possess a good singing voice. Reeve's Scottish robot Cait Sith could probably sing better than she could.

The song echoed once more through her mind, and with it the memory of the comfort and peace it brought her, especially when she had been sick. There were still some nights that she'd give all the Materia in the world to hear it again.

The ninja swallowed. Well, she could try, at least. She could stop if his ears started bleeding.

Softly, Yuffie began to hum the lullaby, brushing his hair. Only a few bars in, his eyes began to close ever so slightly. Encouraged, she carried on with her song, and after a few minutes, he closed his eyes fully. She continued to hum, waiting for his ragged breathing to slow to a tell-tale sign of sleep.

Suddenly, a tear ran down Vincent's cheek.

Yuffie froze in mid-note. Oh god, what had she done _now?_

The gunman exhaled a sharp, choked breath, his face contorted in a look of immense grief. His crimson eyes opened, and she saw that they were moist. His pale lips quivered.

"…_Lu…L-Lucrecia…"_

The word was whimpered, as if just getting the name out of his throat caused him agony. Another tear slipped down his face, and was soon joined by a twin.

"…I-I…I couldn't…save you…I…Lucrecia…" Vincent choked, his breath catching on every word, "I-I'm…so…sorry…I…please…please…_f-forgive me…!"_

And as another tear rolled down his cheek, Yuffie felt tears fill her own eyes.

"You really loved her, didn't you, Vincent?" she whispered.

_Lucrecia_. That name again. He had never told her who the doctor was to him, but she had heard him whisper her name a few times in his sleep before. She had known from the way he said the name she had been someone he had really cared for. After they lost Aerith, Cloud had done the same thing; he had murmured her name over and over, and cried in his sleep; _Aerith…I'm so sorry…I let you die…Aerith…please forgive me…Aerith…_

Yuffie bit her lip, holding back her tears. She had let Vincent get hurt; if she had gotten there just a few seconds later, _he would've been…!_

And it would've been her fault. Vincent would've died, and it would've been all her fault. Could she have even been able to cope with that? How could she have ever forgiven herself?

Without realizing it, Yuffie had reached out her hand, and tenderly wiped the tears from his cheek. He turned his head, and gazed up at her with his wet, guilt-ridden crimson eyes. She met them with her soft auburn ones.

"It isn't your fault, Vincent," she said softly, placing her hand against his face, and lightly running her thumb over his flushed cheek, "You did everything you could."

"…I…I couldn't save her…" he whispered hoarsely.

"No one could," Yuffie soothed, "Lucrecia made her decision. It isn't your fault."

"…b-but…"

"Shhhhhhhh…" she murmured, trying to comfort her friend, "You need to rest now, okay?"

Hesitantly, and after she gently stroked his jaw, his eyes drifted closed, and he took a deep, rattling breath. A few moments later, his pale lips parted.

"…Yuffie…?"

"Yeah? What is it, Vincent?" the ninja asked kindly.

"…will y-you…sing…again…?" he asked weakly.

Yuffie's mouth parted in a warm smile. Brushing the unshed tears from her eyes, she began to hum the lullaby once more. At the sound of her voice, the tension caused by his painful memories, and all he blamed himself for, slowly evaporated, and Vincent's face softened into a rare look of peace.

She watched him sleep for a few minutes, savoring his contented expression, before carefully slipping her hand out of his metal claw, and leaving to hunt for suitable medicine. After searching the house for an hour or so, the ninja located an unopened bottle of Remedy. And lying next to it – a freshly picked flower, just like those that grew in a ruined church in Midgar.

Yuffie raised her eyes and smiled gratefully at the ceiling.

"Thanks, Aerith," she whispered.


	5. Tears

Yuffie returned to Vincent's side and laid her hand over his forehead. It felt even hotter than before. The ninja anxiously dampened the washcloth in ice cold water and mopped it over his brow. She noticed that his long black hair had grown damp with sweat, and braided it loosely to keep it out of his face. Yuffie was tempted to pour the Remedy down his throat, but as he was unconscious, there was no guarantee he would swallow it, and she doubted it would help him if it emptied into his lungs. So she waited until she saw his eyes open slightly to put the bottle to his lips. However, this time, instead of drinking it, he turned away, and shook his head weakly.

"…no…n-no…" Vincent choked. His iris swam feverishly.

"C'mon, Vincent!" Yuffie pleaded, "You have to drink it. It'll make you feel better!"

He turned again, pulling his mouth away from the bottle.

"…n-no…no more…no…"

The ninja leaned down close to him, hoping to remind him that it was still _her_ at his side, and not a sadistic scientist.

"For me? Please?"

He stared at her, and his crimson eyes focused. Hesitantly, he allowed her to put the Remedy back to his lips. He gulped it down quickly, choking as the bitter medicine ran down his throat. Yuffie smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, Vincent."

She bent over a few more inches and kissed his cheek. Realizing what she had just done, the ninja pulled back.

Wait, had she just…?

A deep blush sprang to her cheeks. She hadn't even meant to do that. It had been an unconscious reaction. But Yuffie couldn't remember ever having that "_reaction_" before.

A kiss. A chaste, quick peck on the cheek, but a kiss nonetheless.

She had just kissed Vincent Valentine.

The ninja thanked Leviathan he wasn't lucid. She might've been starring down Cerberus' barrels if he had been. With a little luck, he wouldn't even remember.

Yuffie froze.

Didn't that make it _worse?_ The fact that he was badly wounded, ravaged by fever, and by all accounts defenseless? Wasn't that like forcing herself on him?

Oh god. A pervert. She was a _pervert._

"_I'm sorry!"_ Yuffie finally gasped, her cheeks reddening further, "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! It was an accident! I swear! I didn't…didn't mean _to…!"_

Vincent, however, didn't seem to notice. His eyes had already closed, and he appeared to have already fallen back asleep. He murmured softly, a few strands of his raven hair catching at the corner of his mouth.

"…to…to kiss you," she finished quietly, and sighed, before mumbling, "Not that I haven't thought about it before."

And she had. Oh boy, had she. She'd even daydreamed about jumping him and stealing a kiss right off his soft pale lips. She _was_ a thief, after all. But she'd never actually do it. Yuffie respected him way too much to pull that kind of stunt. Besides…when she kissed Vincent on the lips – if she _ever_ kissed Vincent on the lips – she wanted him to kiss her back.

Fat chance of that ever happening, she knew. Yuffie guessed the likelihood of her winning his heart was somewhere between Hojo secretly running Deepground and Cloud dressing up in drag. Yup, pretty darn slim. But there it was.

Suddenly, she heard a loud noise outside, like a motor. In seconds, Yuffie was pressed against the side of the front door, shuriken at the ready. Her heart raced wildly in her chest.

She fervently hoped it wasn't that red-headed Tsviet again. It wasn't that she was afraid of Rosso; give her one minute alone with her, and the ninja would cheerfully return with the whore's head as first prize. But if she had come to finish the job on Vincent, at that point, Yuffie had a horrible feeling it would only take one hit.

The sounds of a voice reached her ears, and her eyes narrowed in determination. It sounded male; maybe a different Tsviet this time. But if they were after Vincent, they'd better be certain they could fulfill their mission without their limbs.

The door handle turned, and Yuffie pounced, fingers poised to let her deadly weapon fly. It was a good thing ninjas could stop their attack almost as fast as they could start, because she had to freeze less than a millisecond later.

A young private in WRO uniform soon found his throat nuzzling the tip of her shuriken. He gaped at her with wide eyes. But apparently he had been trained pretty well, because he recovered quickly.

"Lieutenant …Kisaragi?" He asked weakly.

Yuffie lowered her weapon and nodded an affirmative.

"The Commissioner sent me to pick you and Sergeant Valentine up. The Shadowfox is waiting outside. I understand Sergeant Valentine is wounded?"

"Yeah," she sighed wearily, swinging the door all the way open, "Yeah, he is. C'mon in. You can help me carry him."

* * *

Vincent Valentine slowly opened his eyes, and instantly regretted it. The harsh artificial lights above him only intensified his throbbing headache. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust until his surroundings came into view. Judging from the cramped metal body, sound of whirring tires, and the jostle of movement, he appeared to be in some kind of vehicle. The WRO insignia on one wall assured him he was safe for the moment.

Ever so slowly, Vincent pushed himself into a sitting position, and winced, grunting quietly. Pain seared across his chest, vicious and raw. He waited until it had subsided slightly before raising his human hand to the source. His fingers met with the ruined tatters of his shirt and gauze. Frowning, he eased the bandages down. A dark, scabbed wound roughly the size of a fist glared red against his pale skin. But from the looks of it, it was already partially healed. With his "enhanced" body, in another few days, it would disappear completely.

Abruptly, his memory returned. Rosso. She had snuck up on him. He remembered the shock as she thrust her hand into his flesh, the horror and agony he had felt as she ripped the Protomateria out. And then he had collapsed, choking as the blood filled his lungs and mouth, dimly aware as the warm, sticky liquid flowed out of his veins and pooled around him on the floor, the way it had those many years ago…

And as Rosso had bent down to strike the final blow, Vincent remembered the despair that had engulfed him, and the final thought that had passed through his mind before darkness took him; _I'm going to die here alone…_

_Don't you like being alone?_ A voice had asked out of the darkness. It had been a feminine, gentle voice.

_No._

_Then why do you choose to __**be**__ alone?_

_Because…because I'm afraid._

_Of what they might think of you? _The voice had asked, _Or because you might lose them?_

_Both._

_Those are the challenges everyone faces. But is being alone any better?_

He had hesitated, but the answer finally came out.

_No…it isn't._

_You see? _The voice said gently, warmth flowing through each word, _Broken hearts can heal over time. All you need to do is take that first step…_

_It doesn't matter now, _he thought miserably, _It's too late._

_It's never too late, Vincent, _the voice had assured, before giving a laugh, soft and sweet_. She's so very fond of you, and she's much too stubborn to let you die…_

After that, all he could recall was bits and pieces. A cold rag against his burning skin, a hand intertwined with his, fingers combing through his hair, a palm against his cheek, a beautiful lullaby being softly hummed, a pair of auburn eyes, full of warmth and love and life…

Vincent raised his metal claw to his head, pressing the cold tips against his temples. Could that have all been just a dream? Something his subconscious had weaved together so he could briefly escape his loneliness?

But no, that couldn't be it. Through all of the pieces of memory, he could remember feeling pain; pain couldn't be felt in dreams, yet he could clearly recall being in agony. Then that meant it _hadn't_ been a dream; someone _had_ been there with him. But who…?

There was a small sound behind him, and Vincent turned his head.

A young woman with short black hair was curled up on the bench beside his, fast asleep. He recognized her immediately: _Yuffie._

She mumbled something quietly, and curled deeper into herself. A shudder ran over her slender form. The gunman gazed down at her for a few moments, both relieved to see a familiar face, and confused as to why she was there. The memory of warm auburn eyes crossed his mind once more, and it abruptly struck him how much they looked like Yuffie's. His mind quickly began to piece things together.

Another shiver interrupted his musings. Flinching against the pain of movement, Vincent slowly undid his cape and spread the scarlet fabric over Yuffie. She sighed, unconsciously snuggling into it. His face softened.

He turned, and forced his body to move forward, ignoring the aching protests of his wound. Once he was far enough away that he didn't think he'd wake her, he drew his cell phone from his pocket and typed in a number. It rang once before being answered.

"_Vincent? Thank god! You're already awake? How are you feeling?"_ came the hurried response.

The concern in the man's voice caught him off guard. Vincent wasn't used to having people worry about him, even if those people were his friends. It made him…uncomfortable.

"I'll be fine, Reeve," he replied.

"_Are you certain? I'm well aware of your healing capabilities, but even you must…!"_

"I'll be fine," the gunman repeated, his voice quiet but firm.

"…_alright,"_ the commissioner sighed. It was obvious he knew better, but he was kind enough not to push the matter.

"Reeve, tell me what happened," Vincent said, casting a glance back at Yuffie, "All of it."

* * *

Yuffie's eyes fluttered opened, and she realized she must have fallen asleep. She hadn't known how tired she actually was until Vincent's fever broke, and she had allowed herself to lay down on one of the Shadowfox's benches and rest her eyes a few minutes. Sleepily, she fidgeted around under the blanket and slipped out her cell to check the clock.

If her phone was to be believed, those few minutes had turned into five hours.

Yuffie shot up and swung her legs off of the bench. She froze.

Vincent was sitting across from her, his arms folded, starring down at her. The flush had left his pale skin, and his crimson eyes were clear and lucid. All traces of his fever were gone, replaced by his normally cold, intimidating, and unreadable countenance.

"Yuffie."

It was only one word, and to anyone else, it would sound like his regular gravelly voice. But the ninja had trained her ear well, and she picked up the subtle emotions carried on it. Reprimanding, with a hint of suspicion.

She inwardly winced.

Aw, crap. Here they go…

"Why did you ask Reeve not to tell me anything?" He asked slowly.

Yuffie silently cursed. She hadn't "asked" him not to tell him; she had flat out _begged_ him not to tell him. She was just going to act like her normal spunky, outgoing self, and pretend his wound had healed itself right up after she found him. But then Reeve had just _had_ to open his big gob. That blabbermouth…!

"Tell you anything about what?" she asked innocently, testing the waters. She needed to know how much he knew.

The gunman frowned. His crimson eyes bored right into hers, and though he didn't say anything, his silence spoke volumes.

He knew _everything._

Yuffie silently cursed more, in a fashion that could rival Cid Highwind. The ninja swore to Leviathan that she'd put her boot up her boss's ass for that.

"I…I didn't think that you needed to know," she replied, her voice unconvincing in her own ears.

"I was ill, bedridden, and delusional for two days, Yuffie," Vincent said icily, his brow furrowing, "I think I have the right to know that."

There was disgust hidden in his voice. Her heart fell. He was disgusted that he had been taken care of by _her._ That was part of the reason she had asked Reeve not to tell him, to save him from embarrassment. But what stung even more was the suspicion in his voice. Didn't he know she'd never _ever_ purposefully do anything to hurt him? Didn't he understand that…?

Yuffie swallowed, trying to steel herself. If it had been anyone else, she would've already gone on the offensive, and started screaming at them. But not Vincent. He was different. He was special to her. And she found no matter how much she wanted to get mad at him, all she could do was feel more and more hurt.

She dared to bring her eyes off the floor and up to his fair face. She withered more at the coldness she saw, and wished she had had just a little more time to see him without his defenses up.

"So," he said simply, "Why didn't you want me to know?"

The tears that Yuffie had held up until then suddenly came gushing out, running freely down her cheeks, and adding to the pain she already felt.

"BECAUSE IT WAS MY FAULT!" she cried out, her vision blurred by her tears, "You got hurt because I wasn't _fast_ enough! You got sick because I wasn't _good_ enough! You almost died, and it's _ALL MY FAULT!"_

Sobbing, Yuffie turned away. She couldn't bear to see what he thought of her now, now that she had crumbled and was crying like a baby. But as the moments passed, the urge to look back at him became so great, she finally dared a short glimpse.

Vincent's cold expression was gone, replaced by alarm and remorse. Guilt filled his crimson eyes. His arms had come uncrossed and were now reaching towards her, but frozen in place, as if he was afraid touching her might shatter her into pieces.

"No, no, don't cry," he whispered, his voice almost beseeching, "Don't cry, Yuffie. Please don't cry."

She tried to stop, furiously wiping away the tears, but her eyes just filled with more. The ninja had held them in too long, and now there was no stopping them.

"_I-It's my fault!"_ Yuffie hiccupped, _"I'm s-so sorry…!"_

Vincent's eyes widened. The same words. Those were the same words he had thought so many times before. Lying in his coffin, he had uttered them over and over again, asking, _begging_, for Lucrecia's forgiveness. But Yuffie…she hadn't done anything wrong. She had _saved_ him.

As he watched his friend sitting there, shaking in sobs, it suddenly became unbearable for him to see her blaming herself. Vincent desperately wanted to comfort her; it was a desire almost foreign to him, but overwhelming, as if his heart would burst if he didn't. But he didn't know what to do. It had been such a long time since he had tried to comfort a crying woman. What should he do…?

_All you need to do is take that first step…_

Abruptly, whatever that had been holding Vincent back broke, and Yuffie found herself pulled gently against his chest. His arms loosely wrapped around her back. Shock robbed Yuffie of her breath.

"It isn't your fault," he whispered, his voice unusually soft, "None of this is your fault. There's no need to apologize. Don't cry. Please."

Yuffie starred up at him helplessly, before she gasped, and refilled her lungs. Suddenly, she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, burying her fingers into his tattered shirt. Vincent grunted quietly in pain, but made no move to pull away.

"Don't _do_ that to me, you big jerk!" the ninja sighed, laying her head against his shoulder, "I thought I was going to lose you! Don't you _ever_ get that hurt or that sick _again!"_

The surprise on Vincent's face melted away, and the corners of his lips curled slightly.

"I'll try not to."

Yuffie sniffed, the last of her tears dripping down her cheeks, and forced a large grin.

"'Cause if you ever die, I'm gonna dive straight into the Lifestream and pull your sorry butt right back out. I like you way too much to let you go."

_She's so very fond of you, and she's much too stubborn to let you die…_

Vincent blinked, starring down into her eyes, drinking in their warmth and love and life. Yuffie watched him process her words, and his face softened in a way she'd never seen before, like she had genuinely touched him. Her grin turned into a true smile. Gently, she hugged him tighter, because although he'd probably never say it, he needed that embrace just as much as she did.

And right then and there, Yuffie realized that her crush wasn't ever going to go away, because it wasn't just a crush anymore; it was stronger, deeper, and she felt it resound in every fiber of her being. It didn't matter if he tried to keep her at a distance, and lock away his emotions behind his stoic face, because she'd hack his defenses into splinters if she had to. She was going to fight for that blind, stupid, gorgeous man, because he was _worth _fighting for.

Someday, Yuffie was going to win the heart of Vincent Valentine, cross-dressing Cloud be damned.

* * *

_The End_


	6. Manga Version Now Availible!

**Hey everyone! I just wanted to let you know that there is now a Manga version of this story now available on DeviantArt! I posted the link on my profile!**

**I've only finished the first chapter right now, but I'm working on the rest. It took a very long time for me to do, so I'd love if you checked it out! ^_^**

**- animeRANDOMNESS (a.k.a nayrukaita)**

**WOO-HOO! Chapter two is now up! Go check it out! ^_^**


End file.
